On Assignment
by MemoBird
Summary: Susan Bones, writer for Witch Weekly, is going undercover to spend a year in the life of a muggle. Stay with her as she faces driving, nosy neighbors, and a new perspective. Read, review.
1. Prologue

_On Assignment_

Prologue: Magical Miscellany

_Magical Miscellany_

_A Weekly Guide to All Matters Magical, by Susan Bones_

In my many years of writing this article, I have never felt the need to change the title. From joke shops, ice cream manufacturing, and Chocolate Frogs to ghouls and Pumpkins-R-Us, all topics covered fall under the rather broad umbrella of magical miscellany. However, this article is about to take direction which will require some title editing.

For the next year, I will be on assignment for _Witch Weekly,_ living entirely without magic. I will be living in a home, getting a job, and carrying out daily activities without the aide of any magical devices. While for some, this may seem a less than extraordinary task, but for me, it will be a challenge like no other. I have always lived with the comforts of magic- my parents were from a family with no Muggle background, and we lived in a flat on Diagon Alley. I have never had a need to change my lifestyle, so I know absolutely nothing about Muggle culture.

Wait, says the reader, how will I get my weekly does of the best writer in _Witch Weekly? _Well, I did fib just a little. The only contact with the magical world I will be having is a once a week owl post, with letters from friends, family, the readers, and most importantly, my paycheck. I will in turn send in that week's edition of "Magical Miscellany: On Assignment." I will be detailing my existence as a witch living in a Muggle world as well as my responses to those experiences.

I apologize for the lack of content in this week's article, but be prepared- the next fifty-two weeks will be a whirlwind of adventure, surprise, and uncharted territory!

_Susan Bones is one of "Witch Weekly"'s most well-known writers, most famous for her biography piece _The Other Heros: The Often Forgotten Story of Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger._ During the first five years after the Battle of Hogwarts, Ms. Bones dedicated her life to rebuilding the credibility of the wizarding media, bringing a much needed objective voice to publications such as _The Daily Prophet_. She currently resides in Diagon Alley with her cat, Fred. Readers can write letters to Susan while she is on assignment by the following address: _

_Susan Bones, c/o Quincy Igman _

_Witch Weekly, Little Red Publications_

_195 Diagon Alley, London_

_re: Magical Miscellany, On Assignment_


	2. Chapter One: Week Zero

_On Assignment_

Chapter One: Week Zero

_Magical Miscellany: On Assignment_

_Week Zero_

When I said I knew nothing about Muggle culture, I wasn't exaggerating. My last exposure to anything Muggle was the required Muggle Studies course I took in my seventh year of Hogwarts. While this may have been helpful to me now in normal circumstances, the course was taught by the Carrow siblings of Death Eater fame. Dropping me into the land of no magic would have been just as effective as sending a Russian peasant boy who hasn't ever left his village into Hogsmeade and expecting him to return with a basic knowledge of wizarding culture within the year. In other words, a disaster. It was time for a cram session in the basics of Muggle living, and a visit to Hogwarts to meet with Muggle Studies professor Carmen Thomas.

Carmen started out first things first. "It's... well, not offensive, but demeaning to refer to non-magical people as Muggles," she explained. "It's best to say non-magical people, or NMP." Political correctness, check. This wasn't going to be too horrible, was it?

Day One was dedicated to an aspect of living "under cover" that the majority of witches and wizards have the most trouble with: wardrobe. "I can't tell you the number of times I've had to stop magical folk on the street to let them know that their attire was less than unnoticeable." Carmen had the look of one long burdened with knowledge unavailable to the public. "It's sad, really, the ignorance of some people." I learned the art of dressing myself for normality and style amongst NMPs, both for everyday activities and special occasions. Weddings? Check. Parties? Check. Shopping for groceries? Under control.

Day Two was learning to live in a home with no magical help. I'm glad my editors thought of this so called "boot camp," because I hadn't even thought about cooking, cleaning, and other basic activities that I had always used magic to accomplish. So called "appliances" such as ovens and refrigerators aren't as intimidating to use as one might think, but it does take practice. Carmen taught me everything I needed to know around the house, and introduced me to what is my favorite NMP item thus far: the television. A moving picture with sound inside a plastic box, this seemingly simple device can provide all sorts of entertainment.

Day Three was communications. A huge part of how NMPs correspond has to do with a unique invention known as the Internet. Carmen launched into a long, detailed explanation of how this Internet works, but I couldn't follow half of it. From what I could gather, the Internet is a series of connected NMP machines that allow for the free sending of messages and information. One inputs data from a keyboard identical to a typewriter which is hooked to the computer. Images are displayed on a glowing screen similar to the television. Another method of NMP communication is known as the telephone, a device which allows conversing with another person from long distances.

By this point, Carmen had lulled me into a false sense of security. I felt entirely comfortable with her, and with the material we had covered. Little did I know she was going to take me out on the road, or as I affectionately call it, Hell...

Q-Q-Q

"Carmen, you can't be serious." Susan Bones was apprehensively eyeing the chunk of metal on wheels in front of her.

"Susan, if you want to act like a NMP, knowing how to drive is essential," said Carmen. "Can you fly?"

"With a broomstick?"

"No, of your own accord. Yes, with a broom!" said Carmen, shaking her head.

Susan immediately stiffened. "I can, if absolutely necessary, although I prefer not to ever since an accident I had when I was ten. Why?"

Carmen pointed at the car. "If you can fly a broom, you can drive a car."

"Great," sighed Susan. "Well, let's get this over with."

The two got into the vehicle, and Susan could feel her palms go sweaty as she stared down the steering wheel. She was never any particular flying genius, and since she almost killed herself on a broom at the age of ten, she had tried to avoid any and all broom travel. The comparison made between flying and driving was not comfortable.

"Alright, down by your feet are two pedals," said Carmen as she buckled herself in. "The one on the right makes the car speed up, called the gas pedal, and the left pedal is for stopping or slowing the car, known as the brake."

Susan took a deep breath and positioned her feet on the appropriate pedal. "So how do you get this puppy going?"

Carmen took one look at Susan's feet and began to fuss in her usual manner. "No, no, you _only_ use the right foot for driving. It's very dangerous to try and brake with the left foot, and what happens if you mix up your feet-"

"I get it." Susan moved her offending left foot away from the pedal.

"Now, this key starts the car, and it goes in the ignition..."

Needless to say, I now have a healthy respect and the upmost admiration for anyone who can operate one of those Death Machines, and figure I'll have enough material to write for a year just based on my driving abilities (or lack thereof).

Day Five was a return to semi-normality, with a lesson in popular culture. Turns out that NMPs have quite the affinity for being entertained not only by the radio as we magical folks are so fond of, but by the television, the movie theater (an enlarged version of the television that shows longer pictures), and various forms of live entertainment. Plays, musicals, all enjoyed by our nonmagical brethren. Literature is a central element to NMP entertainment. There's every type- classics that everyone likes but no one reads, fast paced mysteries, romances your mother wouldn't let you read, and ye olde coming of age tale. Who know there was such diversity in the NMP world? I certainly didn't.

The final two days of the week were days of rest and recovery. My brain has absorbed an intense amount of information, and I can only hope to retain the majority of it for my first real week among new people, places, and traditions. As a side note: congratulations to Mr. Harry Potter on his appointment to Head of the Auror Division. May he continue to keep us all safe.

_Susan Bones is one of "Witch Weekly"'s most well-known writers, most famous for her biography piece _The Other Heros: The Often Forgotten Story of Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger._ During the first five years after the Battle of Hogwarts, Ms. Bones dedicated her life to rebuilding the credibility of the wizarding media, bringing a much needed objective voice to publications such as _The Daily Prophet_. She currently resides in Diagon Alley with her cat, Fred. Readers can write letters to Susan while she is on assignment by the following address:_

_Susan Bones, c/o Quincy Igman_

_Witch Weekly, Little Red Publications_

_195 Diagon Alley, London_

_re: Magical Miscellany, On Assignment_


	3. Chapter Two: Week One

Chapter Two: Week One

_Magical Miscellany: On Assignment_

_Week One_

I would like to take a moment to thank my editors and supervisors, because they ultimately think situations through much more than I do. For some crazy reason, I thought I would be able to shop for a home and buy one in time to write this article. Those of you who are at all familiar with real estate know that this is sitting on the border between not in your lifetime and impossible. I am currently settled in my home on Wisteria Walk, although the situation in which I am able to live in the home is less than joyful. An elderly NMP born of magical parents lived there for quite some time, and was crucial in caring for Harry Potter when he was a teenager. Mrs. Figg passed away last year, and having no children of her own, she left the house for the Ministry to use at will. They had no need of it, so it is currently being used for my purposes.

The home isn't huge, but it is plenty big enough for one person. The current decor is what one would expect when the last resident was an elderly woman who had a fondness for cats. All the appliances work, though, and the neighborhood is entirely normal. Almost too normal for my taste, but I'm hoping Little Whinging will yield some abnormalities in the near future.

I didn't bring that many personal items with me due to the fact that the apartment was already furnished, but what I did bring had to be transported in one of the aforementioned Death Traps, what the general NMP calls a truck. Moving an entire bed nonmagically can be a bit of a hassle.

So, I had to figure out a way to get my mattress and four-poster bed in Diagon Alley into the back of the truck (without magic), then drive said truck from London to Surrey. My goodness gracious, Susan, what have you gotten yourself into?

Two trips from my apartment to the truck, a couple of people nearly trampled by a crazy woman with a mattress, and one sore back later, the entire ensemble was outside of Diagon Alley and in the back of the truck. I shall not detail the...experience... of driving where I cannot see anything behind me, but let's just say that if I had a dime for every near-death experience, I'd be a rich woman. I was just preparing to haul my load inside the new house when I had an incident which I had been both dreading and looking forward to: a meeting with a NMP...

Q-q-Q

Susan put the truck into park and wondered how NMPs had survived as long as they had when the majority of the population spent time every day with a Death Trap. Now was not the time for contemplation, she still had an entire bed to move into her new home.

Glancing about the street and hoping for some sign of other life, Susan was surprised to see a hefty young man pushing a middle-aged woman in a wheelchair just turning onto Wisteria Walk. They were the first neighbors she seen since moving in and Susan didn't know what to expect. There was nothing to do but move the bed.

Susan began unloading the truck, and had most of the frame ready to move before she heard quite a shriek from the wheelchair-bound mother who was now in front of Susan's house.

"Duddie! Duddie, help that woman!"

Looking bemused, the man replied, "Of course, Mum."

Susan froze as the man walked up to her. She wasn't prepared for this, she knew she was going to say something that was suspicious, something off-

"Don't worry, I'm just a neighbor from Privet Drive." He extended a hand. "Dudley Dursley."

"Susan Bones," she said with a smile and a handshake.

"That's my mother, Petunia," Dudley said with a gesture back towards the woman. "She can't hear very well, so I'm sorry if she shouts."

"Well, what's her name, Duddikins?" Petunia bellowed from the sidewalk. "Is she single?"

Susan bit back a laugh as Dudley rolled his eyes. "Her name is Susan, Mum, and I don't know if she's single or not."

"Hurry up and find out, I'm wheeling back home!" Petunia awkwardly turned herself around. "Be home by dinner!"

"Yes, Mum," Dudley said. He turned back to Susan, who was loading up her arms with various bed parts. "Can I help?"

"Of course, here, just take this..."

Q-q-Q

It was less of a deal than I was worried about, but at least this week I'm settled and know two people in Little Whinging. Until next time, faithful readers, and don't forget to send me feedback!

_Susan Bones is one of "Witch Weekly"'s most well-known writers, most famous for her biography piece _The Other Heros: The Often Forgotten Story of Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger_ During the first five years after the Battle of Hogwarts, Ms. Bones dedicated her life to rebuilding the credibility of the wizarding media, bringing a much needed objective voice to publications such as _The Daily Prophet_. She currently resides in Diagon Alley with her cat, Fred. Readers can write letters to Susan while she is on assignment by the following address: _

_Susan Bones, c/o Quincy Igman _

_Witch Weekly, Little Red Publications_

_195 Diagon Alley, London_

_re: Magical Miscellany, On Assignment_


	4. Chapter Three: Week Two

On Assignment

Chapter Three

_Magical Miscellany: On Assignmnet_

_Week Two_

As anyone who spends more than about five minutes alone with me soon discovers, I have serious attention issues. I need to have several projects going at once to keep me busy. Idle hands are the Devil's handiwork, after all. Last week, I had the new world of NMP to keep me entertained, not to mention getting settled in my new home.

This week, I realized I had no projects, no social life, no job; in other words, a stir-crazy Susan. First things first- a job.

Due to the salary drawn from writing this article and from previously authored books, I have no financial need for another job. But if I ever wanted to meet someone besides Dudley and his mother (believe me, that needs to be an option), a job was the easiest way to achieve this. I was terrified.

Then, I remembered- I'm an entirely capable twenty-seven year old woman, with considerable more appeal than some teenager that NMPs so often hire. I've never been imprisoned, I'm articulate, I'm not stupid- what could possibly keep someone from hiring me?

Well, it turns out that a twenty-seven year old without any job experience to speak of isn't number one on an employer's "to-hire" list. Luckily for me, the Wizarding World uses the same organization system as the NMPs, albeit by a different name- the Dewy Decimal System. Susan Bones is now the newest employee at Little Whinging Public Library. I'll begin my training at the beginning of next week, and work on Thursday. How exciting!

You may remember that my current abode has the distinct style of an elderly woman entirely too fond of cats. That leads me to project number two- the redecoration of my home. My room will be the first to undergo a transformation, and I'm not sure I can put into words how exhilarating it will be to have a space not painted a dingy pink and adorned with knitted doilies. I made use of my new employer and checked out a book on home decorating, NMP style.

It didn't look too incredibly difficult. I simply had to move the furniture to the center of the room, cover it, tape all the sections of the wall I didn't want paint on, and then go to town. Oh, how little I knew...

Q-q-Q

Susan pushed a strand of brown hair that refused to stay in a ponytail away from her face. It was time. The room was prepped, and she was so ready to be rid of the horrific pink forever.

Susan went to open the can of light green paint she had chosen, and found that it was quite difficult to pry the lid off. Five minutes of struggling and Susan was quite frustrated.

"There has to be something in this kitchen..." Susan muttered as she ransacked the kitchen drawers.

Though there were several somethings in the kitchen, none of them happened to open the can of paint. Susan felt torn between crying, cursing, and throwing the can of paint across the room. There was only one option left...

III

Ding-dong. Petunia looked up from her knitting, wondering who that could be. The only visitors she received... well, she hadn't had any visitors since the accident.

"Hello?" Petunia opened the door, and saw that woman who had moved into poor Mrs. Figg's old home. She was single, according to Dudley, and Petunia didn't like her.

"Ah... Mrs. Dursley? Is Dudley at home?" She looked sheepish, and was holding a can of paint for some unknown reason. Freakish is what she was, and Petunia certainly didn't want Duddy around her, but what choice was there?

"Sweetums! That woman is here!" Petunia wheeled back around to continue her afghan. For June, it was cold, and Diddykins had always been so cold-natured.

That woman was still talking to Dudley, and Petunia narrowed her eyes. Dudley ran up the stairs, and _she_ was left on the doorstep, still with that can of paint. Petunia wondered if she was planning something.

Dudley can back down the stairs with a crowbar, and Petunia suddenly became worried. She didn't like the woman either, but Dudley did have a tendency to become protective. "Popkin, don't overreact, now, dear!" Petunia craned her neck, trying to see if there were going to be bloodstains on her doorway.

Dudley shut the door, and the crowbar was gone. "Mum? What are you talking about?"

Petunia turned to her knitting. "Nothing, popkin."

Q-q-Q

The rest of the painting went rather smoothly, but that was the most embarrassed I've been since my Hogwarts days. Dudley was helpful, but Petunia has quite a knack for making me feel very much eleven.

But, the bigger picture is that my bedroom is now_ mine_, and I have a job. I refuse to let a slightly disturbed woman ruin my experience.

Until next week, faithful readers!

_Susan Bones is one of "Witch Weekly"'s most well-known writers, most famous for her biography piece _The Other Heros: The Often Forgotten Story of Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger_. During the first five years after the Battle of Hogwarts, Ms. Bones dedicated her life to rebuilding the credibility of the wizarding media, bringing a much needed objective voice to publications such as _The Daily Prophet._ She currently resides in Diagon Alley with her cat, Fred. Readers can write letters to Susan while she is on assignment by the following address:_

_Susan Bones, c/o Quincy Igman_

_Witch Weekly, Little Red Publications_

_195 Diagon Alley, London_

_re: Magical Miscellany, On Assignment_


	5. Chapter Four: Week Three

_On Assignment_

Chapter Four: Week Three

_Magical Miscellany: On Assignment_

_Week Three_

Well, readers, this week marked the beginning of my new job working as a librarian in the children's section of the local library. How exciting! My first task was yesterday, and I had to conduct story time. The children were all very excited, because I was apparently reading one of their favorites, although I had never heard of it before...

p-P-p

"' One of them was brown all over, but the other had strange markings under his fur, as though long ago he had been spotted, and the spots still showed through. And about his little soft nose and his round black eyes there was something familiar, so that the Boy thought to himself: "Why, he looks just like my old Bunny that was lost when I had scarlet fever!" But he never knew that it really was his own Bunny, come back to look at the child who had first helped him to be Real.'" Susan closed the book and stared at all the wide-eyed faces staring right back at her.

"Did you enjoy the story?" Susan asked, and the spell was broken. The children burst forth with comments and questions and general happiness about their favorite book.

Soon, parents came to collect their kids, and Susan was left with just one girl whose parents hadn't come yet. She was sitting on the floor still, and had a look of deep wisdom on her face. Susan tried very hard not to laugh; the girl looked as wise as Albus Dumbledore himself.

"What's your name?" Susan asked as she sat on the floor next to the girl.

"Carolina Jeanne Akers," said the girl, turning her big brown eyes on Susan.

"Is your mum or dad coming to get you, Carolina Jeanne?"

Carolina just ignored her and pointed at the book still in Susan's hand. "Is it true?"

"Is what true?" Susan asked.

"The story about nursery magic," said Carolina Jeanne.

Susan thought for a moment. "What do you think?"

Carolina squint her eyes in concentration. "I... I know it's not true, because stuffed rabbits becoming Real is ridiculous, but..."

Susan smiled in understanding. "I know exactly how you feel, Carolina."

"Carolina Jean!" A woman with the same bright blonde hair as the girl came calling through the library doors. "Oh, thank goodness, there you are!"

Susan stood up and made to greet the woman, but was ignored as she dragged her daughter out of the library.

"I told you to meet me outside, you silly girl, if your head would be out of the clouds for just one minute..." the woman ranted as she left the library.

p-P-p

I hope to spend some more time with Miss Carolina Jeanne next week at story time, but with the harpy of a mother, I'm not entirely sure how that's going to turn out.

My apologies for the short article this week, but next week will bring excitement in the form of remodeling the bathroom! Until then, faithful readers.

_Susan Bones is one of "Witch Weekly"'s most well-known writers, most famous for her biography piece _The Other Heroes: The Often Forgotten Story of Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger._ During the first five years after the Battle of Hogwarts, Ms. Bones dedicated her life to rebuilding the credibility of the wizarding media, bringing a much needed objective voice to publications such as _The Daily Prophet_. She currently resides in Diagon Alley with her cat, Fred. Readers can write letters to Susan while she is on assignment by the following address:_

_Susan Bones, c/o Quincy Igman_

_Witch Weekly, Little Red Publications_

_195 Diagon Alley, London_

_re: Magical Miscellany, On Assignment_

A/N: My apologies as well for the short chapter. I promise that Week Four will not only be uploaded sooner, but have longer content. _The Velveteen Rabbit _is a wonderful story by Margery Williams. If you haven't read it... you should. It was, and still is, one of my favorite children's stories.


End file.
